Discovery
by Miss Vampire Authoress
Summary: A Law & Order Style story about a New York detective's discovery of the states. Features: New York and New Jersey Okay! Someone, at least one person, review this! It has no favorites or follows or anything! I need to know if this was any good or not! Please! I beg of you!


Discovery—Hetalia 

Note: I Own Nothing

Location—New York City

Detective Bill Johnson and his partner, Detective Lisa Russell walked into the prescient on a cold November morning and took their seats at their desks, right next to one another. Not one minute later, their captain was marching towards them with a file—a new case. "You got a new case. A teenage girl went missing yesterday afternoon." Their captain, John Benson explained to them as he slapped the file on Russell's desk. Russell picked it up and began to scan the contents as Johnson asked the usual questions. "Name?" "Annie Homes, age fifteen, a Manhattan native, prep school girl." "Where was she last?" "Parents say they last saw her yesterday at about noon. She was heading to lunch with her friends—names are in the file." "I guess we'll question them first." Russell said as she completed her quick read of the case report so far and slipping it under her arm as she and Johnson began their investigation.

Four hours later…

Russell sighed heavily as she got back into the passenger seat of the car. "So the best friend bailed on lunch yesterday in favor of going to the movies with a cute boy by the name of Danny Fitzpatrick. The other friend, Emily Howard, met Annie at the coffee house at 12:30 pm, along with a classmate—one Jason Stevens—and some guy named Willem Jones." Russell ran over her notes from the interview with Emily Howard.

The best friend, Sarah's story checked out, and after the date she had a family thing and didn't see Annie for the rest of the day. Emily apparently had left lunch early because her mom had called—Emily's dad had had an accident at work and was at the hospital—leaving Annie with Jason and Willem. The story checked out, as Jason, who they had interviewed before her, had said the same. Jason had also said that he and Annie had left at the same time, but Annie had also left with Willem. "They were just going to hang out." Jason had said. Russell's musings were cut short by her partner.

"Who is that kid anyway? I talked with the parents, he's not a classmate—that Jason kid mentioned that they met him in Central Park a few months ago." Johnson said as he got into the driver's seat. "Got his address?" Russell asked. "Yep." "Let's go ask him some questions then." Russell said as they pulled into crowded streets of New York City.

They arrived at surprising place—Park Avenue. They had both assumed that since the Jones kid wasn't a classmate from the prep school Annie and her friends attended, he was some public school kid. "I guess he must go to some other prep school." Russell thought to her self. The two detectives exited their car and walked up to the proper address, a nice stone four story home, and knocked on the solid oak doors.

There was no answer. Johnson knocked again. No answer. "Hello, Mr. Jones, this is the police. We'd like to ask you some questions." Johnson announced as he knocked again. "Police?" A voice asked from the bottom of the steps leading up to the front door. The detectives turned around to see an old lady—a fellow park avenuer, they noticed—looking at them curiously. "Uh, yes. A friend of Willem Jones disappeared yesterday and we were going to ask him some questions, but he isn't here." Russell explained. The old lady gave a 'ohh' of understanding.

"Well, I saw Willem this morning. He was taking a girl to the park today." The old lady explained. Russell and Johnson exchanged looks. "Did you see the girl?" Russell asked. The old lady nodded. "She spent the night last night with him and left with him this morning. They may still be in the park." The old lady said. "Well this case may be solved soon." Russell thought to her self wryly. "What did the girl look like?" Johnson asked. "Oh, um, long blond hair, and green eyes, looked about in her teens." The old lady explained. It matched the basic description of Annie. The detectives thanked the old lady and left to Central park to look for one Willem Jones.

30 minutes later…

"Okay, thank you sir." Johnson thanked a vender as he asked whether he knew where Willem Jones was. Luckily, Willem was apparently a regular with the vender and had been by not 15 minutes before to buy hot dogs for himself and a girl. He was last seen at park bench a little down the way. Johnson and Russell immediately jumped into action and headed down the path. They were happy to find a boy matching Willem's description petting a passing dog not a few minutes later.

Willem, from his crouched down position, could be seen to be about 16, had styled blond hair and sharp green eyes. He sported a scar on his face, right near his eye. It looked half-healed, but still fresh. He wore an expensive looking black heavy coat, along with brightly colored jeans and black shoes. The dog he was petting looked like a stray, but he seemed to not be concerned with that.

"Hello, are you Willem Jones?" Johnson asked. Willem looked up from the stray dog he had been playing with to the detectives. He looked surprised for a moment but it passed. He stood from his crouched position but still continued to play with the magey mutt at his feet using his free hands to pet the poor thing's head. "Yeah, What do you need?" He asked.

"We're with the police. We have some questions about Annie Homes." They said, flashing their badges. "What about her?" The boy asked curiously. Russell was frustrated already. She couldn't read the kid—he gave them eye contact but at the same time gave off a vibe that said he had something to hide. Not only that but something about the kid's eyes told her he knew a lot more than he let on…his eyes seemed wiser and more hardened than anyone else's she had ever seen. Wiser than the oldest person she had ever met. Harder than any soldier she knew. This kid scared her.

"Where did you last see her?" "Lunch yesterday. We hang out afterwards but I had business to attend to." Business? How old was this kid? Russell didn't realize she had said this aloud. "Sixteen. And if must know, I work. I don't go to school anymore and run a family business with my father. He lives outside of town though; I run the branch here in New York." Willem answered with practiced ease. Russell could sense it wasn't the whole truth, that Willem was hiding something. That his explanation was a cover story of some kind.

"Tell the truth, Willem." She said seriously. Willem seemed surprised for a moment before a slight smile came to his face. "Fine then, detective. I don't go to school because I got kicked out. I was a real slacker and flunked out." He said with a tad bit of sarcasm. Even this more believable answer, Russell could tell was a lie. "Alright, kid, you better start talking before me and my partner take you down town—"

"New York!" A youthful female voice called from a distance.

Keeping a good grip on Willem's arm, Russell and Johnson turned in the direction the voice was coming from and saw a girl with long, crimped, dirty blond hair that seemed to have a bump-it in it. She had green eyes that didn't seem to match her tanned—probably sprayed—skin. She wore a short black skirt with black leggings and black leather boots that seemed kind of tacky, and a white sweater with a v-neck collar and several silver necklaces around her neck. Thankfully, in this cold weather, she wore—and Russell and Johnson's jaws nearly dropped at this—a black, mink coat.

She strutted towards the group with a sort of swagger, like a she was the coolest person in the club, but her face and how she held herself had all the grace and power of the Godfather. Her face, which was actually quite pretty, held something akin to annoyance as well, and the look in her eye almost had Russell a little afraid. She had the same look a Mama Bear had on one of those nature shows when someone was messing with her cubs.

"Excuse me, but who are you, miss?" Johnson asked as the young woman, who up close looked no older than 16-17, as she came to stand before the two detectives and Willem, who seemed both annoyed and thankful for the girl's presence. "_Who am I?_" The young woman asked in outrage, a Jersey accent present in her voice. "_Who? Am? I?"_ She enunciated each word with a sardonic cackle, like she couldn't believe what Johnson had just asked her.

"You have the nerve to start harassing my brother, and you ask me who I am? Who do you think you are, you—you—disrespectful moron!" The girl exploded with fury, making Johnson flinch slightly. "Miss—Miss, my apologies, but we were just asking your brother some questions about the disappearance of a friend of his—" "So now you have the nerve to accuse him of a crime! Oh, buddy, if it was the 1930s and I had a baseball bat you would be regretting that very soon! My brother is a good boy; sure he's annoying, is a horrible baseball player—" "Am not, you Frickin'—" "The point is my big brother is a sweetheart; he loves the theater, music, and art. He plays hockey and baseball. He may not be the smartest or the politest, but he tries, and is a very popular kid! He would never—_never ever_—hurt a hu—p-person!" The woman ranted loudly, screaming almost directly in Johnson's face and poking his chest repeatedly to punctuate each sentence with a manicured nail.

Johnson sighed and said, "Let him go, Russell." Russell, reluctantly, did so.

Willem was immediately by his sister's side, rubbing the wrist that Russell had been gripping tightly. "So, who are you?" Russell asked. The woman took a deep breath to calm her self and said, "Jan Jones. I'm Willem's sister. I'm visiting for the weekend because of work." Again, Russell asked her self, this time making sure it was just in her head, what kind of work or business a teenager would have besides a job delivering pizzas or babysitting the neighbor's kids. "Where were you last night, Jan?" Johnson asked. "I spent the night at New York—I—I mean Willem's place." Russell gave Jan a suspicious look. "Who's New York?" She asked. "I am," Willem interjected. "It's a nickname. You heard her call me it earlier, remember?"

After acquiring Willem's story of the events following after him and Annie left the coffee house, Johnson and Russell returned to their prescient.

"Those Jones kids…they—they rub me the wrong way…they both had this weird look in their eyes. The same look that you see in an old person's sometimes, but also a soldier's, too. But…also like the same look you see in a rape victim's eyes…and a murder's, too. I-I've never seen that in anyone's eyes before…not in all my years on the force…" Russell vented as she and Johnson went over their notes. "I have." Their Captain suddenly interjected as he approached their desks. Johnson and Russell gave Captain Benson looks of curiosity. "Where?" Johnson asked.

Captain dragged a chair up to Russell's desk and sat down. After several moments, he began, "It was the 1970s, and I was a newbie on the force, just out of the academy. One night, me and my partner got a call about some teenagers having some wild house party in an apartment near Broadway. We go up to the apartment and knock on the door. Some kid, maybe about 16, opens the door. At first, we thought he was just some regular dumb kid throwing a party while his parents were gone. But the second I looked into his eyes…I saw exactly what you described Russell...I was so scared…yet at the same time, automatically respectful of the kid. I could tell he had been through more than any body I had ever met—and my older brother had gone to Vietnam, so I knew what someone looked like when they had been broken and seen and been through horrible, horrible things. That look was the same one in my big brother's eyes times ten…as if he had lived through the same thing, only a dozen times." Benson explained. Johnson and Russell were in awe of the story already. "What happened?" Johnson asked. Benson sighed as if that was something he didn't want to talk about. "We tried asking him some questions, but before we could do anything, our captain called and told us to return to the prescient. The next day, some feds came in and asked us what we had seen and heard. We told him we saw nothing and heard nothing. They told us to forget about that kid at the apartment, and if we didn't, we would be taken off the force. Until today, I've never spoken of that kid." Benson answered. "Who was the kid?" Russell asked.

"Willem Jones, but the kids at the party called him 'New York'."

It didn't make any sense, Russell thought as she lay in bed that night. If the kid from the park and the kid from the apartment forty years ago were the same person, than Willem would have to be over fifty by now at least. But he looked no older than 16-17 years old, and that girl Jan was his older sister and she didn't seem that much older. Did they have some weird aging disease, Russell wondered.

The next day, Johnson got a call from a friend of Annie's saying they got a call from her last night. Apparently Annie was at some boy's beach house in the Hampton's. They called up the cops there, and sure enough, they found Annie making kissy face with some boy from her school by the fireplace. The boy was from a rich family like Annie and went to her school; he and Annie were a regular modern-day Romeo and Juliet. The boy's mom and Annie's mom hated each other and refused to let the two date. So they dated in secret. Their plan was actually for Annie to lie and say she spent the weekend with a friend, when she was actually in the Hampton's with the boy, but when her friend bailed, their plan quickly fell apart at the seams.

Annie and the boy were both grounded for the rest of the school year and forced to break up.

Alls well the ends well, Russell thought.

She never expected to see Willem and Jan, again. But two weeks after the Annie Homes case was closed, she saw the pair arguing as they walked down Times Square. She was stunned to see them, of course. After the story Captain Benson told them, she expected never to hear about the mysterious kids again. Now, she was watching them quarrel over something in a newspaper.

She watched as the two argued, Jan shoving Willem slightly, and Willem shoving back, but not aggressively. More as if they were chastising one another for doing something stupid. It was as Jan was shoving Willem, though, that his coat swayed open, revealing…a gun.

Russell felt something inside her go cold as she saw that gun in its holster at his hip, and for some reason, she knew Jan probably had one on her as well. That gun seemed to confirm all her suspicions…she didn't know when, or where, or how, but she knew Willem Jones had killed people…that he had almost been killed his self…He had been through hell and back…and something told her above all…he was not human. Nor was his sister.

She didn't know why she started walk towards him. Why her feet started to move on their own towards someone she feared. But she did, she moved…one step at a time, she approached him. Their conversation of harsh whispers became clearer as she approached.

"Syria's looking pretty bad."

"Hope she gets better."

"I just want all this trouble in the middle east to be over. Every time I read about something involving terrorists or civil wars my scars hurt."

"Me and you both, bro. This mess seriously better settle down soon or I think I may snap."

"Snap someone's legs, you mean. You always go Godfather on people when your stressed out."

"Shut up! I do not."

"Yeah you do, remember when you shot me four times back in 1936?"

"You were being a jerk! Besides, you shot me first, in the head of all places."

"That was Penn, I swear! I shot Massy in the back, though, I'll admit that."

Something in Russell snapped. They were talking about shooting people…about being shot their selves…what the Hell was wrong with them?!

She didn't realize she had pulled out her gun until a loud bang resounded through Times Square, and Willem fell to the pavement, a pool of blood forming around his head. Russell felt a fist fly into her cheek and she was tacked to the ground by heroic bystanders.

From where she was pinned to the pavement, she watched Willem bleed from the bullet wound in his forehead. Of course, the life didn't drain from his eyes…she just seemed to lay there and look at her sadly.

Some how, she was sent to a mental institute rather than prison.

According to her attorney, she had friends in high places…She didn't know what that meant until Willem came to visit her one day.

"Humans aren't allowed to know about us for many reasons…one being that they tend to go insane if they do. Our leaders know, but we warn them not to think about it too much…something in our eyes set humans off. Only especially strong people can handle to be around us…that's where all the world's most insane rulers came from. They were the ones who weren't strong enough to handle our presence. I'm sorry for looking you in the eyes." Willem explained.

"Did you die and come back to life?" Russell asked. Willem shook his head.

"I played dead until my body was sent to the morgue. Than I snuck out and my body was replaced by some unclaimed body from somewhere in the country or world who looked enough like me." Willem explained.

"Did it hurt?" Russell asked. "It hurt like hell. But I've been through worse." Willem answered.

"Who are you?" Russell asked finally.

"I'm New York."


End file.
